My God
by Damned Lolita
Summary: Manectric doesn't understand why Lyell hits him. But he knows he deserves it. Because Lyell is god. And he must not lose. For the verdict is guilty, and the punishment is death.


( I don't own pokemon.

Jesus Christ, maybe I _do _need professional help. Well, this idea came from the fact that I always thought about what would happen if the trainer who claimed to 'love his/her pokemon' lost often. Would they stop loving their pokemon then? It's a measure of love, that even when your pokemon loses constantly, you train it. And make it strong. And even if you don't, it shouldn't matter. But I think I have also never seen an abusive trainer fic. And the trainers who think they're better, just because they never have, they're not.

They've just never needed to hit their pokemon.

Their souls are as filthy and corrupted as the abusive trainers.)

"Stupid goddamn pokemon!" The boy screamed, slapping the Manectric across the face. He yelped in pain. "Master, please! I'm sorry!" The electric dog pleaded, but to no avail. Lyell was in a mood. He'd just lost to another boy named Brendan.

Lyell had sent his Manectric against the boy's Marshtomp, and ordered him to use Spark. Knowing it wouldn't work, he used Crunch. And if that wasn't enough, the Marshtomp KO'ed him using Mud Shot.

"You are worthless, you hear me!? You're a goddamn worthless pokemon!" The boy began to kick him. Manectric rolled over. "_I know.'_

Once, Lyell had not been like this. He had been an eager ten year old, setting out on his journey to be a master, like his brother.

But three years passed, and he did not even have Wallace's badge.

His family had refused to let him come home until he beat the pokemon league.

But he couldn't.

And every bit of anger, frustration, and hatred he had towards that was focused into his pokemon.

"Get up, you useless lump. We've gotta go."

Manectric didn't need to ask where; back to Sootopolis City.

To challenge Wallace, and ultimately, time and time again, fail.

Manectric wondered sometimes whether or not he deserved this.

But if Lyell said he was bad, then he must be.

Lyell was Master. Lyell was _God._

That night, Lyell's other five pokemon, a Sceptile, a Linoone, a Swellow, a Mightyena, and a Banette were released from their pokeballs.

The Mightyena, the only one who dared defy Lyell, was beaten rather viciously that night. The others took their punishment without complaint.

For Lyell was God.

And who among them would dare to defy god?

Certainly not Manectric. For he'd seen the consequences of disobeying.

Death.

The next day, Sootopolis was within sight. They went in, and immediately challenged the leader.

Wallace took pity on these poor pokemon.

He made the loss quick.

Frankly, he made it worse.

For losing so fast, Lyell would beat them all harder tonight.

As Lyell walked out, dejected, he bumped into a girl.

The girl had brown hair, freckles, and a kind face. Her six pokemon looked well-fed and content.

Instantly, Manectric envied them.

"Oh, hello, I'm—hey! Your pokemon are hurt!"

Finally, someone noticed the scars.

"Here, it looks like old wounds, I can heal these! Bleak, get my bag!" An Absol rose up to get it, but Lyell stopped her the only way he knew how; he kicked the Absol. The girl turned to him. "Hey! That was really mean!" Lyell snorted angrily. "My pokemon are fine. Just let us be." And with that, he turned. Manectric stole one last glance at the girl. She saw him, and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.'

Manectric didn't think she should be.

His god did this to him.

And if his god did it, it was right.

And the girl was _wrong_.

Lyell was angrier that night, angrier than Manectric had ever seen him.

He was pacing around, clutching a small, hard-looking cylinder.

Manectric didn't know what it was; Lyell had bought it from some man in a black uniform.

The others sat in silence, waiting for their god's judgment.

_Verdict: Guilty. On two counts of first-degree loss, one count of stupidity, and one count of insolence._

_Sentence: Death._

He looked up. "Well, I've decided. It's not me who's not good enough; it's you.

You just aren't powerful enough.

I don't need you.

I'll start over.

Know you were nothing, meant nothing to me."

He pulled out a black cylinder with a handle, and started towards Mightyena.

He pressed it to Mightyena's head, but, snarling, Mightyena turned, and bit off his hand. "I defy you." He spat. Lyell, swearing, raised the cylinder with one hand, and pulled the handle's trigger. Two iron spheres shot out of the cylinder, and hit Mightyena.

He collapsed, Lyell's hand still in his mouth.

Lyell turned to us.

_Bang._

Sceptile was dead.

_Bang._

Linoone was dead.

_Bang Bang._

_Bang._

Swellow was dead.

_Bang._

Banette was dead.

He reloaded the cylinder with iron spheres, and turned to me.

_Bang. Bang._

Two shots to the back of the head.

And we're all.

Dead.

_Now_.


End file.
